Checklist for a bad morning
by IAmTheBoss
Summary: Sam is having a bad morning, so she starts to make a checklist of all the things that could and probably will go wrong.
1. Chapter 1 Bad Morning

Disclaimer: Roses are red, Violets are blue, me no own, so you no sue. (I don't even own the disclaimer!)

Rating: K (that means that there is no cursing, or content that could be bad. If you don't like it, then why are you reading it? I'm not forcing you to read my story.)

Spoilers: Random things from different episodes. Mentions Orlin and other random stuff.

Authors Note: Janet is still alive, Jack is still a Colonel and in command of SG-1, Sam is still a Major, Pete is still an idiot cop in Denver who's never met Sam, and General Hammond is still in charge. Basically, before the writers and Sci-fi messed everything up.

Summary: Sam's having a bad day, so she starts making a checklist of all the bad things that could happen, and starts to check them off.

Checklist for a bad morning:

Your alarm clock broke during the night, causing you to wake up fifteen minutes late. _ Check_

You decide you have enough time to take a shower, but when you jump in, you quickly realize that you water heater had broken as well. This would not be such a bad thing if it were summer, but unfortunately for you it is the dead of winter. _Check_

You come out of the coldest and fastest shower of your life to find that you forgot to replace the hair dryer that Orlin used to build his stargate. _Check_

You look at your watch to find out that your clock is five minutes slow, so now you're even later than you were a second ago. _Check_

You skip breakfast, despite the protest from your stomach, and jump in your car, only to realize that it, too, is broken. Glancing at your watch, you realize that you have a very important briefing in thirty minutes, and if all goes well, you'll get there with seconds to spare. _Check_

In a blind panic, you jump on your motorcycle to race to work, not realizing that the tank is almost on empty. _Check_

You get three quarters of the way there when your motorcycle stops. You look down and realize that, yes, you are out of gas. You check the storage compartments for gas, and realize that Orlin used the gas for his little stargate. What he used the gas for, well, only the Ancients know. You look up and realize that the rest of the way is uphill. _Check_

You trudge up the hills, cursing everything under God's green Earth, and off of God's green Earth, in every language that you know. Daniel would be proud. _Check_

You're almost there and you pray that you have one bit of good luck that Colonel O'Neill doesn't come up the road. You would never hear the end of it then. As your day had been going, precisely at that moment, one very arrogant and annoying, and okay, very, very lovable and cute Colonel Jack O'Neill pulls up beside you. He offers you a ride up to work, and before you could even think about refusing, the dreary grey skies open up and it starts to snow. _Check_

Now freezing, wet, and utterly miserable, you put your bike in the back, and climb in. As you head up the road, Colonel O'Neill casually tells you that your very important meeting has been postponed until further notice. You don't know whether to laugh or cry. You opt for a strangled laugh cry, and get strange looks from your CO for the rest of the car ride. _Check_

If you check one or more of these, you have had a bad morning.

Oh yeah, Sam Carter had one really bad morning.

What did you think? Should I continue? If you think that I should continue with Sam's afternoon, then please, give me some ideas. I'm at a writers block to end all writers' blocks. Please leave a review, but don't flame please. I can handle constructive criticism, but if you don't like my story and what I put in it, then just don't review. Anywho, I do believe that I'm going to go find something to hide behind, just in case someone decides to throw rotten internet vegetables. Tootles!


	2. Chapter 2 Bad Afternoon

Summary: Sam is having a bad day

Rating: Again I say, it's K. Ya don't like, ya don't read. Capish?

Author's note Sorry it took me so long to update, but, as I said, I'm having a major battle with the evil monster known as Writer's Block, and at the moment it has kidnapped my humor Muse, Allegro, and is holding her hostage. In order to speed up the process of taking her back, please give me some ideas as to how I should continue.

Also, a special thanks to all my reviewers; you really helped out a lot. I normally try to send out an e-mail to all my reviewers, but I've been pretty busy these last few days. A special thanks to **sj-88**-- you really helped me out. You'll find that I used your ideas, and that's what got me over the Writer's Block's evil attempts to stop me. YOU SHALL NEVER WIN!!! Ahem… Sorry.

Disclaimer: If I owned it, would I really be sitting here typing this? No, I would be giving SciFi a piece of my mind for canceling the show.

Now, on to our feature presentation…

Checklist for a Bad Morning: Chapter 2

Checklist for a bad afternoon:

You get an e-mail from General Hammond telling you that your meeting will be held at 1100 hours. You look at the clock, which smugly reads 11:05. You groan, shut off your equipment, and race down to the meeting._ Check_

As your day foretells, there is an elevator backup; at least 20 people were waiting for a ride. You decide that getting more exercise is never a bad thing, and head for the stairs. _Check_

Four minutes and five flights later, you rush into the briefing room, panting and promising yourself never to take the stairs again. After an apology, and an explanation, you start the meeting, not unaware of the glare that General Hammond decides to send your way. _Check_

Two hours later and you're certain that you've never had a worse briefing. Nobody paid you any attention, and Felger and General Hammond even fell asleep! A few other scientists had started their own conversations while you were speaking as well! Sometimes, you could strangle your scientists. _Check_

As Murphy would have it, SG-18 was late checking in with the SGC. And, as Murphy would once again declare, SG-1 was sent after them. Upon exiting the gate, you promptly fall onto your butt, and get run over by Daniel. _Check._

You push Daniel off of you, and start to get up, only to have Teal'c barrel into you, pushing you down a flight of stairs that you hadn't realized were there before. _Check_

You look up, only to find yourself staring in the face of a group of angry natives. Well, at least you know where SG-18 went… _check_

Three hours, multiple bumps, bruises, scrapes, a broken arm, and the beginning of one heck of sunburn later, you arrive back at the SGC, with a slightly worse for the wear SG-18. On your way to the Infirmary, you nearly get run over by a gurney. And wait; was that Janet that was on top of the gurney? _Check_

Arriving at the Dreaded Place of Horrors, also know as the Home of the Napoleonic Power Monger, but more commonly know as the infirmary, you overhear one of the nurses saying that Siler got hit by, or shocked by, or shot by something. Again. That was probably who was being carted on the gurney. Speaking of which, you should think about asking the General to require a driver's license for the gurneys. You're pretty sure that that gurney was moving fast enough to qualify as a vehicle. At the very least, it should come with a warning siren. _Check_

Thirty minutes later, you leave the infirmary, feeling worse off than when you arrived. You head to the commissary, deciding that some food or rather, some Blue Jell-O, would be good right about now. On you way there, you almost get run over by Sgt. Harriman on a caffeine kick, Dr. Felger, blindly running down the hallway with some piece of, oh so important, paper, and wait, was that Rodney… running away from a Marine holding a lemon…? Oh well, you don't know what exactly he did this time, but you're sure he deserved it. You only hope that the Marine is able to catch up with him… Not that you'd admit it…well, at least not too loudly. _Check_

You finally make it to the commissary and get in line, only to find out that they're out of Blue Jell-O. They of course, have lots of Red Jell-O. Bleh. You turn around just in time to see the airman who got the last cup of Blue Jell-O walk away. You secretly hope that he chokes on it. _Check_

Thoroughly annoyed, frustrated, and ticked, you storm down to your lab, sending out glares that would have scared Teal'c, should he have been passing by. As it was, everyone in the hallway gave you as wide of a berth as possible. You actually send one poor airman scurrying into a nearby supply closet with the force of you glare. _Check_

On your way to your lab, you step in something, probably, hopefully, water, and slip and fall to your butt, and managing to jostle your broken arm on the way down. With a curse that would have made a battle hardened Marine general blush, you get off the floor and send out a scowl that would have Anubis cowering in fear. You then stalk off to your lab, this time slightly more aware of unidentified-substances-of-goop-that-take-great-pleasure-in-making-things-(mainly you)slip. _Check_

You reach youro lab and slam open the door, scaring the crud out of Felger, who for some reason was in your lab by your computer holding a cup of coffee. With a yell, you realize all too late what is about to happen, and reach forward, as if you have some magical power that will stop Felger's coffee from spilling all over your new, highly expensive computer. _Check_

You send Felger out with a warning to stay out of your sight _OR ELSE,_ and you hurry over to inspect the damage to 'your baby.' After a few minutes and plenty of not-so-muffled curses later, you realize that all hope is lost for your computer, along with the reports that were on it. You slowly start to fill out the requisition forms for your new computer, not realizing the sparks coming off of the back of the machine, and landing on the papers stacked behind it… _Check._

So, whadya think? Like it, love it, hate it, detest it so much that you may possibly run away screaming? Any way, just let me know, by clicking that little periwinkle button that says send a review. Please? puppy dog anime eyes Please? Oh, and any ideas as to where I should go next would be greatly appreciated. Please and thank you!


	3. Chapter 3 Bad Evening

_Hey everyone, I'm back! Did ya miss me? … Anyone? ... Wow, tough crowd tonight. Anywho, sorry it's been so long, I'm still locked in a fierce battle with the evil Writers' Block, and am attempting to mount another rescue mission for Allegro. The last one didn't go so well. shudders. My musical note army suffered heavy losses, but I have hope that they will recover. _

_In other news, the computer that I'm writing on is having 'issues,' so it's taking me even longer to get this written, er, wroten,… wruten? Ah well, one of the three. Grammar never was my strong suit. Anywho, on with the story…_

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them. I never will. My therapist and I have had long, emotional talks about this, but, I'm getting over that fact. I will survive.

On with the story… no, really, this time, the story is starting. Right now. _Everyone else: _ WELL, GET ON WITH IT! Okay, okay, sheesh. Pushy much? Now on with the story. _Everyone else: _Groans

**Last time on Checklist for a Bad Afternoon…**

…_You slowly start to fill out the requisition forms for your new computer, not realizing the sparks are coming off the back of the machine, and landing on the papers stacked behind it… _

**And now, for the conclusion…**

Five minutes into your requisition form signing, you smell smoke. Your head shoots up, and with a sickening feeling, you look behind your now useless computer. What you see surprises you, although considering the way your day has been going, it really shouldn't. You jump back just as the deadly flames reach out to you. With a sigh, you race over to the fire alarm, pull it, and then you look for a fire extinguisher. _ Check_

After thirty seconds of racing around, you realize that the fire extinguisher is MIA. Really, General Hammond should make those things mandatory every 50 feet. Your head shoots up fast so that you almost get whiplash, as you suddenly realize that you have a very important, very flammable, and very, very, explosive project in your lab. And by very, very explosive, you mean able to take out half the mountain. And then some. You race back in the lab, now not only fearing for your own safety, but for the safety of the entire complex. That and it would look bad on your resume if you blew up a mountain. For some reason, blowing up a sun is okay, but blowing up a mountain is a bad thing, a **very **bad thing.

Racing into your lab, you realize that there is so much smoke in your lab that you can't see anything. You also run the risk of getting severe smoke inhalation. With a half cough-half sigh, you blindly go about your lab, frantically searching for the experiment.

After a few minutes, some burns, and lots of smoke, you finally stumble upon your experiment. Literally. You walk right into the thing, and stub your toe on it, nearly falling flat on your butt in the process.

Now holding the wretched project, and your poor toe, you scurry out of you lab, just in time to be run over by Siler as he races to your lab with a fire extinguisher.

After a few short apologies, Siler rushes into the lab to try to contain the fire. With a sigh, you pick up the phone to call the infirmary. You have a feeling that he's going to need it.

No sooner than you'd put down the phone, Siler comes out of your lab. On fire. The last thing you notice is his freaked out face as he runs into you and the world fading to black as you pass out.

Some time later you wake up in the infirmary, groaning as the harsh lights assault your eyes. You check your watch, and feel a small bubble of happiness as you realize that it is 23:59; one minute 'till midnight. Hopefully with the passing of the day, your bad luck will end. _5 seconds… 4 seconds…3…2…1…_ 'Happy New Year' Sam thought wryly, as she said aloud, "I'd like to see you get me now, Murphy!" With that thought, a huge groan came from the bed under her, just as it collapsed. Sitting in the middle of the mess of metal, mattress, bed sheets, and medical equipment, Sam only had one though. _'I just had to say it.' _

YES! It's finished! HALLELUJAH! I feel so happy now. I can start to post some of my other one-shots now that this is done. YES! WOOHOO! Sorry, just had to get that out of my system. **Please**, _**please,**__**PLEASE**_ review. It will make me very happy. And we all want me to be happy, right?…_RIGHT?! _Okay, enough of the madness. Now, I'm gonna go party and celebrate the completion of my story. YAY!


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